Spotlight: Unexpected Expectations by Lauren Helms

What started as a $10 raffle ticket, turned into a vacation in Vegas and a whole lot of expectations that neither of them saw coming. For Kevin and Lucy, it was just supposed to be a little fun but when they are served with a large dose of luck, everything suddenly becomes unexpected. Readers will fall in love with this rags to riches romance from Lauren Helms. The 425 Madison series is back with season three and Unexpected Expectations is now live!

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Kevin

With everyone around me settling down, I’m happy to continue living my life single and carefree.

That is unless I can convince the concierge, Lucy Wilson at 425 Madison to finally take me up on that offer to go out on a date.

She’s beautiful, friendly, and her compassion for each and every one of the residents is admirable. Something tells me that she doesn’t see herself that way at all though. 

This is why I’ve made it my mission to break her out of her overly cautious shell starting with a lucky penny and a $10 raffle ticket.

It was all supposed to be a little fun but when a large dose of lucky graces us, everything suddenly becomes unexpected.

Lucy

He thinks I don’t see him, but I do. Oh yes, I’ve been aware of the all too good looking Kevin Harper for quite some time now. 

The thing is, I’m not sure that we have enough in common and I sure don’t have the free time for a social life between my job and school. Dating? That’s pretty far down on the list of things I’d like to check off - not by choice.

That is until Kevin convinces me that a little fun is good for the soul. 

What started as a $10 raffle ticket turned into a vacation in Vegas and a whole lot of expectations that neither of us saw coming.

I always believed in fairy tales, but I wonder if what we have is too good to be true. I can only hope that it’s true what they say…

After all, 425 Madison is the perfect place to fall in love.

Excerpt 

Copyright @ Lauren Helms 2020

My fingers brush the smooth copper coin reminding me that I have a second mission to complete. I pinch the coin between my fingers and walk toward the concierge desk. Just like I hoped she would, there stands one of the most beautiful women I’ve ever seen. Standing around 5’4, the golden-haired beauty has curves in all the right places. She’s soft around the edges, but I can tell by the way her uniform fits her body that she’s got a sexy as fuck body underneath. Today, her thick locks are pulled low in the back, but her waves fall over her shoulder. I’d love to give that hair a yank in the throes of passion. Shit, I’d love to do a lot of things to this girl.

I’ve flirted with Lucy for a while now, and she’s one of my favorite parts of visiting the building. I’m not a shy man, and I enjoy a good romp between the sheets, but Lucy, I could tell right off the bat is the kinda girl you don’t have meaningless romps with. Nah. She’s a take-home-to-your-momma kind of girl.

My mom would love her.

Maybe, one of these days I’ll ask her out. Heck, I don’t even know if she has a boyfriend or not. It’s never stopped me from flirting, but flirting is harmless. The lady seems damn good at her job, maybe she is just that good at dealing with flirts like me every day.

I come to a stop in front of her, leaning my arm on the desk.

“Heya, Lucy. Seen any tangerine trees or marmalade skies lately?” The Beatles reference earns me a stunning smile.

“Hi Kevin, how are you today?”

I give her my sexiest smirk. “I’m better now that I’m seeing your gorgeous face.” My words hit their mark, and Lucy’s cheeks turn a sexy shade of pink.

“Okay, Mr. Charmer.” She giggles a bit. I always feel like an accomplished mother fucker when I get a girl to giggle. Especially a girl like Lucy, she’s not a giggler. Which is something I dig about her. Besides her looks, she seems to be whip-smart and down to Earth. Most likely, she doesn’t come from money, or why would she be working this gig? She has to deal with the rich and spoiled day in and day out, and she doesn’t lose her cool. I’ve seen her in action, and I’ve seen the way some of the residents treat her. I’ve had to bite my tongue a few times. As Jake has reminded me, this place is private property, I can be banned from the building.

I snap my finger, pretending to recall something important. “I actually have a gift for you.”

Two dainty eyebrows arch in surprise as I lift the penny between my thumb and forefinger.

“A penny?” Her tone is full of amusement.

“Yup. I found a penny outside the building. You know what they say, “If you find a penny, pick it up, if it’s heads, you’ll have good luck.” I smirk as I finish the saying. Pleased with the soft smile that plays at her kissable lips.

“You know, I’ve never told anyone this before…” She leans toward me and lowers her voice as if she doesn’t want anyone to hear. “When I see a penny on the ground, if I notice its tails up, I lean down and flip it over. Hopefully, I can help someone else find a little good luck.”

My heart slams against my chest. Her words nearly cause me to stumble. Who is this woman? She takes the time to flip over a penny just in case the next person who comes along can find a lucky penny? Why does hearing this nearly shatter my charming, nothing gets to me-exterior?

Why?

Because I do the exact same thing.

I clear my throat.

“Don’t worry, Lucy girl, your secret is safe with me.” I extend my hand toward her, and she holds out her hand. I carefully place the penny in her open palm and slowly drag my fingers across her bare hand. I’m expecting the sizzle from our touch, but I don’t miss Lucy’s reaction to our chemistry when I hear her tiny intake of breath.

She closes her hand around the lucky penny and pulls her fist in toward her chest, holding it to her heart.

About Lauren 

Lauren Helms is a romance author her nerdy and flirty contemporary words. Lauren has forever been an avid reader from the beginning. After starting a book review website, that catapulted her fully into the book world, she knew that something was missing. While working for a video game strategy guide publisher, she decided to mix what she knew best--video games and romance. She decided to take the plunge and write her first novel, Level Me Up. Several published novels later, Lauren, with her book bestie, also formed PR company, Forever Write PR, to help other authors promote their books.

Lauren lives in Indianapolis, Indiana sharing her love of books and video games with her own Gamer Boy husband and three little kid nerds who will hopefully grow up to share the love of things that united Lauren and her husband on their own happily ever after.  

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Spotlight: The Last Story of Mina Lee by Nancy Jooyoun Kim

THE LAST STORY OF MINA LEE (on sale: September 1, 2020; Park Row Books; Hardcover; $27.99 US/ $34.99 CAN). opens when Margot Lee’s mother, Mina, doesn’t return her calls. It’s a mystery to twenty-six-year-old Margot, until she visits her childhood apartment in Koreatown, Los Angeles, and finds that her mother has suspiciously died. The discovery sends Margot digging through the past, unraveling the tenuous and invisible strings that held together her single mother’s life as a Korean War orphan and an undocumented immigrant, only to realize how little she truly knew about her mother.

Interwoven with Margot's present-day search is Mina's story of her first year in Los Angeles as she navigates the promises and perils of the American myth of reinvention. While she's barely earning a living by stocking shelves at a Korean grocery store, the last thing Mina ever expects is to fall in love. But that love story sets in motion a series of events that have consequences for years to come, leading up to the truth of what happened the night of her death.

Excerpt

Margot

2014

Margot's final conversation with her mother had seemed so uneventful, so ordinary—another choppy bilingual plod. Half-understandable. 

Business was slow again today. Even all the Korean businesses downtown are closing. 

What did you eat for dinner?

Everyone is going to Target now, the big stores. It costs the same and it's cleaner.

Margot imagined her brain like a fishing net with the loosest of weaves as she watched the Korean words swim through. She had tried to tighten the net before, but learning another language, especially her mother's tongue, frustrated her. Why didn't her mother learn to speak English?

But that last conversation was two weeks ago. And for the past few days, Margot had only one question on her mind: Why didn't her mother pick up the phone?

****

Since Margot and Miguel had left Portland, the rain had been relentless and wild. Through the windshield wipers and fogged glass, they only caught glimpses of fast food and gas stations, motels and billboards, premium outlets and "family fun centers." Margot’s hands were stiff from clenching the steering wheel. The rain had started an hour ago, right after they had made a pit stop in north Portland to see the famous 31-foot-tall Paul Bunyan sculpture with his cartoonish smile, red-and-white checkered shirt on his barrel chest, his hands resting on top of an upright axe.

Earlier that morning, Margot had stuffed a backpack and a duffel with a week's worth of clothes, picked up Miguel from his apartment with two large suitcases and three houseplants, and merged onto the freeway away from Seattle, driving Miguel down for his big move to Los Angeles. They'd stop in Daly City to spend the night at Miguel's family's house, which would take about ten hours to get to. At the start of the drive, Miguel had been lively, singing along to "Don't Stop Believing" and joking about all the men he would meet in LA. But now, almost four hours into the road trip, Miguel was silent with his forehead in his palm, taking deep breaths as if trying hard not to think about anything at all.

"Everything okay?" Margot asked.

"I'm just thinking about my parents."

"What about your parents?" Margot lowered her foot on the gas.

"Lying to them," he said.

"About why you're really moving down to LA?" The rain splashed down like a waterfall. Miguel had taken a job offer at an accounting firm in a location more conducive to his dreams of working in theatre. For the last two years, they had worked together at a nonprofit for people with disabilities. She was as an administrative assistant; he crunched numbers in finance. She would miss him, but she was happy for him, too. He would finally finish writing his play while honing his acting skills with classes at night. "The theatre classes? The plays that you write? The Grindr account?"

"About it all."

"Do you ever think about telling them?"

"All the time." He sighed. "But it's easier this way."

"Do you think they know?"

"Of course, they do. But..." He brushed his hand through his hair. "Sometimes, agreeing to the same lie is what makes a family family, Margot."

"Ha. Then what do you call people who agree to the same truth?"

"Uh, scientists?"

She laughed, having expected him to say friends. Gripping the wheel, she caught the sign for Salem.

"Do you need to use the bathroom?" she asked.

"I'm okay. We're gonna stop in Eugene, right?"

"Yeah, should be another hour or so."

"I'm kinda hungry." Rustling in his pack on the floor of the backseat, he found an apple, which he rubbed clean with the edge of his shirt. "Want a bite?"

"Not now, thanks."

His teeth crunched into the flesh, the scent cracking through the odor of wet floor mats and warm vents. Margot was struck by a memory of her mother's serene face—the downcast eyes above the high cheekbones, the relaxed mouth—as she peeled an apple with a paring knife, conjuring a continuous ribbon of skin. The resulting spiral held the shape of its former life. As a child, Margot would delicately hold this peel like a small animal in the palm of her hand, this proof that her mother could be a kind of magician, an artist who told an origin story through scraps—this is the skin of a fruit, this is its smell, this is its color.

"I hope the weather clears up soon," Miguel said, interrupting the memory. "It gets pretty narrow and windy for a while. There's a scary point right at the top of California where the road is just zigzagging while you're looking down cliffs. It's like a test to see if you can stay on the road."

"Oh, God,” Margot said. “Let's not talk about it anymore."

As she refocused on the rain-slicked road, the blurred lights, the yellow and white lines like yarn unspooling, Margot thought about her mother who hated driving on the freeway, her mother who no longer answered the phone. Where was her mother?

The windshield wipers squeaked, clearing sheets of rain.

"What about you?" Miguel asked. "Looking forward to seeing your mom? When did you see her last?"

Margot's stomach dropped. "Last Christmas," she said. "Actually, I've been trying to call her for the past few days to let her know, to let her know that we would be coming down." Gripping the wheel, she sighed. "I didn't really want to tell her because I wanted this to be a fun trip, but then I felt bad, so..."

"Is everything okay?"

"She hasn't been answering the phone."

"Hmm." He shifted in his seat. "Maybe her phone battery died?"

"It's a landline. Both landlines—at work and at home."

"Maybe she's on vacation?"

"She never goes on vacation." The windshield fogged, revealing smudges and streaks, past attempts to wipe it clean. She cranked up the air inside.

"Hasn't she ever wanted to go somewhere?"

"Yosemite and the Grand Canyon. I don't know why, but she's always wanted to go there."

"It's a big ol' crack in the ground, Margot. Why wouldn't she want to see it? It's God's crack."

"It's some kind of Korean immigrant rite of passage. National Parks, reasons to wear hats and khaki, stuff like that. It's like America America."

"I bet she's okay,” Miguel said. “Maybe she's just been busier than usual, right? We'll be there soon enough."

"You're probably right. I'll call her again when we stop."

A heaviness expanded inside her chest. She fidgeted with the radio dial but caught only static with an occasional glimpse of a commercial or radio announcer's voice.

Her mother was fine. They would all be fine.

With Miguel in LA, she'd have more reasons to visit now.

The road lay before them like a peel of fruit. The windshield wipers hacked away the rivers that fell from the sky.

Excerpted from The Last Story of Mina Lee by Nancy Jooyoun Kim, Copyright © 2020 by Nancy Jooyoun Kim Published by Park Row Books

Buy on Amazon | Audible

About the Author

Born and raised in Los Angeles, Nancy Jooyoun Kim is a graduate of UCLA and the MFA Creative Writing Program at the University of Washington, Seattle. Her work has appeared in the Los Angeles Review of Books, Guernica, The Rumpus, Electric Literature, Asian American Writers’ Workshop’s The Margins, The Offing, the blogs of Prairie Schooner and Kenyon Review, and elsewhere. Her essay, “Love (or Live Cargo),” was performed for NPR/PRI’s Selected Shorts in 2017 with stories by Viet Thanh Nguyen, Phil Klay, and Etgar Keret. THE LAST STORY OF MINA LEE is her first novel.

Connect:

Author Website

Twitter: @njooyounkim

Instagram: @njooyounkim

Goodreads

Spotlight: The Girl from Vichy by Andie Newton

Publication Date: August 13, 2020

Genre: Historical Fiction

1942, occupied France.

As the war in Europe rages on, Adèle Ambeh dreams of a France that is free from the clutches of the new regime. The date of her marriage to a ruthless man is drawing closer, and she only has one choice – she must run.

With the help of her mother, Adèle flees to Lyon, seeking refuge at the Sisters of Notre Dame de la Compassion. From the outside this is a simple nunnery, but the sisters are secretly aiding the French Resistance, hiding and supplying the fighters with weapons.

While it is not quite the escape Adèle imagined, she is drawn to the nuns and quickly finds herself part of the resistance. But her new role means she must return to Vichy, and those she left behind, no matter the cost.

Each day is filled with a different danger and as she begins to fall for another man, Adèle’s entire world could come crashing down around her.

Adèle must fight for her family, her own destiny, as well as her country.

AMAZON US

About the Author

Andie is an American writer living in Washington State with her husband and two boys. She is the author of The Girl I Left Behind (Aria 2019) and The Girl from Vichy (Aria 2020). She has a Bachelor’s degree in History from Washington State University and a Master in Teaching. She would love to say she spends her free time gardening and cooking, but she’s killed everything she’s ever planted and set off more fire alarms than she cares to admit. Andie does, however, love spending time with her family, trail running, and drinking copious amounts of coffee.

Andie would love to be a guest at your next book club! You can find discussion questions for her novels on her website www.andienewton.com. You can also find Andie on Facebook, Twitter, Instagram, BookBub, and Goodreads.

The Girl from Vichy

Spotlight: Wyoming Special Delivery by Melissa Senate

Their feuding fathers never could have predicted this… He came to claim the Dawson Family Ranch…but was Daisy Dawson’s heart part of the deal? Harrison McCord was sure he was the rightful owner of the Dawson Family Ranch. And delivering Daisy Dawson’s baby on the side of the road was a mere diversion. Still, when Daisy found out his intentions, instead of pushing him away, she invited him in, figuring he’d start to see her in a whole new light. But what if she started seeing him that way, as well?

A letter from the author: 

Dear Reader,

The nine-months-pregnant single heroine of Wyoming Special Delivery, Daisy Dawson, is one of six siblings and the only female. But when she goes into labor on the side of a Wyoming road in the dead of summer without a cell phone or a spare brother, she’s beyond grateful when the handsome, mysterious guest at her family’s dude ranch turns up—and delivers her baby boy.

But Harrison McCord has a secret reason for staying at the Dawson Family Ranch. A reason Daisy will not like one bit. Bringing her newborn son into the world, though, changes everything for the both of them.

I hope you enjoy Daisy and Harrison’s story. Feel free to write me with any comments or questions at MelissaSenate@yahoo.com and visit my website, melissasenate.com for more info about me and my books. For lots of photos of my cat and dog, friend me over on Facebook.

Happy spring and happy reading!

Warmest regards,

Melissa Senate

Excerpt

Late the next afternoon, Daisy stood in the farmhouse nursery with Noah and Sara and gasped as she looked around. She gently put down Tony’s infant carrier and unbuckled him, carefully cradling him along her arm as she stepped around the room. The nursery sure looked different than it had a day and a half ago. She’d had the basics of the room set up for a couple months now—the crib, the dresser with its changing pad, the glider—all gifts from Noah a few days after she’d told him she was pregnant. But now there were surprises everywhere. In one corner was an adorable plush child’s chair in the shape of a teddy bear for Tony to grow into. And someone had stenciled the wall facing the crib with the moon and stars. Tony’s name was also stenciled on his crib, which was Sara’s handiwork. And there were stacks of gifts in one corner that she knew were baby clothes and blankets and burp cloths. She wouldn’t have to buy anything for Tony for a long time.

“Ford and Rex did the moon and stars,” Noah said. “For novice stencilers who had to read the instructions twice and watch a tutorial, they did a great job.”

“And Zeke and Axel hit up BabyLand and bought that adorable polka-dot rug and the yellow floor lamp,” Sara added. “I didn’t even go with them to make sure they didn’t buy anything weird or clashing, and what they picked out is absolutely perfect.”

The room was so cozy and sweet. “You guys are going to make me cry,” Daisy managed to say around the lump in her throat as she surveyed the nursery. She used her free hand to swipe under her eyes.

She couldn’t say she and her brothers were close—well, except for Noah these days—but they were always there for her. And they’d all been there to meet Tony the day he was born. That was the one lucky thing to come out of her nonwedding—her whole family had already been at the ranch.

This place had always held bad memories for all the siblings, but after inheriting the ranch from their father, they’d all invested in rebuilding and renovating and reopening the Dawson Family Guest Ranch. Noah had done the lion’s share on his own; Daisy had been too pregnant to help much when she’d arrived a few months ago, and the four other Dawsons couldn’t get away from the ranch fast enough.

Ford had once said hell would freeze over be-fore he’d come back here, a sentiment shared by the other three brothers as well, but Ford, Rex, Axel and Zeke had surprised Noah and Daisy at the grand opening this past Memorial Day weekend. And now Axel was staying at the ranch for a bit. That meant three out of six Dawsons at the ranch at the same time. It was a start. And Daisy was going to run with it.

Buy on Amazon

About the Author

Melissa Senate has written many novels for Harlequin and other publishers, including her debut, SEE JANE DATE, which was made into a TV movie. She also wrote seven books for Harlequin's Special Edition line under the pen name Meg Maxwell. Melissa's novels have been published in over twenty-five countries. She lives on the coast of Maine with her teenaged son, their sweet shepherd mix, Flash, and a comical lap cat named Cleo. Visit her website MelissaSenate.com.

Spotlight: Here to Stay by Adriana Herrera

Genre: Contemporary Romance

Imprint: Carina Press

Award-winning, highly-acclaimed author Adriana Herrera delivers the sexy, modern enemies-to-lovers romance you’ve been waiting for.

Starting over is more about who you’re with than where you live…

Julia del Mar Ortiz is not having the best year.

She moved to Dallas with her boyfriend, who ended up ditching her and running back to New York after only a few weeks. Left with a massive—by NYC standards, anyway—apartment and a car lease in the scorching Texas heat, Julia is struggling…except that’s not completely true. Running the charitable foundation of one of the most iconic high fashion department stores in the world is serious #lifegoals.

It’s more than enough to make her want to stick it out down South.

The only monkey wrench in Julia’s plans is the blue-eyed, smart-mouthed consultant the store hired to take them public. Fellow New Yorker Rocco Quinn’s first order of business? Putting Julia’s job on the chopping block.

When Julia is tasked with making sure Rocco sees how valuable the programs she runs are, she’s caught between a rock and a very hard set of abs. Because Rocco Quinn is almost impossible to hate—and even harder to resist.

Excerpt

Julia

I stepped into the elevator and shoved my phone into the pocket of my dress, took a moment to send a prayer to the employee discount that let me buy bomb clothes on a nonprofit worker budget, and did some mental math of what could be going on.

Was the program really in trouble? Could we actually get shut down?

Nope, I would not go there. I would not think about what it would be like to get on a plane back to New York dumped and unemployed. Not happening.

A distraction. That’s what I needed. Just as the door to the elevator was about to close, someone got in. The fact that I was eye level with the base of his throat was a good clue as to who it was, but when he opened his mouth and the now familiar knee-weakening baritone echoed off the walls of the elevator, I got my confirmation.

“Morning, Ms. Ortiz.” That voice could be used for interrogation tactics. Every muscle in my body loosened at the same time whenever I heard it.

I squeaked out a “Morning” and took my time lifting my head all the way up to look at the last person in the world I wanted overhearing my conversation with my mother.

Him.

Rocco Fucking Quinn, otherwise known as the “Team Leader” for the consulting firm looking to bag my job. The guy with the New York City-est name on the planet. I hadn’t exactly gotten personal with Mr. Quinn, but I picked up on that accent the first time we met.

“What’s good?” I really tried to sound polite, but my Queens jumped out in situations like this. I did not gulp, because I could not let this fucker see me sweat. I managed not to cut my eyes at him, but it was a close call.

I took him in, ramrod straight, every hair in its place, not a wrinkle in sight, and decided he could not be the proprietor of the laugh-choke from before. The man seemed to be completely lacking a sense of humor. I knew he must have teeth but I’d never seen them.

Yeah, definitely not him. That fact rallied my spirits a little bit as I stood close enough to pick up on how he smelled. Like the ocean and something woodsy. That was not helpful information.

Without saying another word, I ran my eyes over him. It struck me that he was not wearing something bespoke like pretty much everyone here. Don’t get me wrong, he still looked good enough to eat, but he was clearly on a budget. And at a place where everyone looked like they were heading to a New York Fashion Week photo shoot, it was sort of jarring. Still, the suit fit him well. And there was no question, this guy could wear the fuck out of a suit. I held back a whimper when I envisioned him in a Brioni or a Zegna. They’d have to put out a heat advisory for the building if that ever happened.

“I thought I could detect a familiar accent when I was coming down the hall.” His perfectly blue eyes twinkled at what I was certain was an expression of utter mortification on my face. He sounded pleasant enough, but he was also alluding to the fact that I was yapping on my phone. This wasn’t the first time he tried to be cute. Rocco Quinn seemed to like fucking with me. And it was only a matter of time before he stepped on my last nerve and I reamed him out.

Thankfully, just as I was scrambling to respond to his comment, the elevator got to my floor. I was planning to just leave him hanging and run off, but he was hot on my heels.

Dammit.

“Sounds like your mom misses you.”

Oh, for fuck’s sake. Why did he have to act all fake nice?

I nodded without looking at him. “She does. Listen, Mr. Quinn—”

“You can call me Rocco.”

Nope, that was not happening. I was not letting this sexy bastard talk me into getting all chummy with him. I was already on thin ice as it was. He could keep his pheromones and his slick-as-fuck expressions to his damn self. I came to a dead stop a few feet away from the conference room door where my boss—and whatever shitty news she was about to give me—was waiting.

When I turned around, Rocco was looking down at me with an expectant smile. God he was handsome, that jet-black hair so dark it almost had a tinge of blue and those eyes, piercing. And I guess he had teeth after all, and of course they were perfect. Asshole. I shook my head hard when my traitorous brain started wondering what Pantone color his eyes would be.

Get your head in the game, Julia del Mar.

I straightened my back, determined to fight off the debilitating effects of those gleaming teeth and perfectly pink lips. I had to remember this niceness was probably his way of getting us to let our guard down. He was here to find ways to cut jobs. I was not about to mouth off and get myself fired, but I needed to get some things clear.

“Look.” I was proud of myself for not rolling my neck or pointing at his face. “I know you’re trying to be nice, but you make me nervous.” I pulled on the hem of my blue polka-dot dress and smoothed my yellow cardigan, avoiding eye contact at all costs.

“Why do I make you nervous?”

Uh, maybe because you’re here to close down as much of the foundation as you can.

I refrained from actually saying that because I had not been raised by a Puerto Rican man and Dominican woman just so I could act like I had no home training with the guy who could get me fired. But it was a close call.

“I’m sorry for saying that. You don’t make me nervous.”

Lies.

Rocco Quinn didn’t just make me nervous. He made me want to run my hands all over that big-ass body and moon over his almost but not quite curly hair and blue eyes, in spite of the fact that I knew he was out here gunning for my entire program. And yet, I still wanted to kiss the hell out of him while I climbed him like a sequoia.

Copyright © 2020 by Adriana Herrera

Grab Your Copy on Amazon | Bookshop.org

About Adriana Herrera

Adriana was born and raised in the Caribbean, but for the last fifteen years has let her job (and her spouse) take her all over the world. She loves writing stories about people who look and sound like her people, getting unapologetic happy endings.

When she’s not dreaming up love stories, planning logistically complex vacations with her family or hunting for discount Broadway tickets, she’s a trauma therapist in New York City, working with survivors of domestic and sexual violence.

Her Dreamers series has received starred reviews from Publishers Weekly and Booklist and has been featured in The TODAY Show on NBC, Entertainment Weekly, NPR, Library Journal and The Washington Post. Her debut, American Dreamer, was selected as one of Booklist’s ‘Best Romance Debuts of 2019’, and one of the ‘Top 10 Romances of 2019’ by Entertainment Weekly. Her third novel, American Love Story, was one of the winners in the first annual Ripped Bodice Award for Excellence in Romantic Fiction. Adriana is an outspoken advocate for diversity in romance and has written for Remezcla and Bustle about Own Voices in the genre. She’s one of the co-creators of the Queer Romance PoC Collective. Represented by Taylor Haggerty at Root Literary.

Connect with Adriana Herrera

Website: https://adrianaherreraromance.com 

Twitter: https://twitter.com/ladrianaherrera 

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/laura.adriana.94801 

Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/ladriana_herrera/ 

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/18639202.Adriana_Herrera 

Spotlight: The Promise Kept by Maggie Mae Gallagher

Publication date: August 19th 2020
Genres: Adult, Contemporary, Romance

Synopsis:

Cybil Roe gave her heart away thirteen years ago only to have it wind up shattered. With painstaking determination, she has rebuilt her life into something to be proud of today. Yet all her future plans are upended when the only man she has ever loved returns to Echo Springs. Nor does it help that he seems bound and determined to draw her back into his life. Cybil vows to stay away from him, no matter what seeing him all the time does to her resolve.
 
Miles Keaton wiped the dust of his hometown off his shoes years ago, never expecting that life would lead him back to the place where he had begun. Coming home to Echo Springs, to Cybil, to start a new law practice and a new life is a risk he never thought he'd take. She hates him – with good reason. Years ago, he walked away when she needed him the most. But now is he back, and intends to argue the case of his life, one more important than any he has debated in a courtroom, because she is the one woman he cannot live without.
 
Can Miles convince Cybil to take a second chance on him, or will a secret she has kept all these years destroy any future they might have?

Excerpt

“Oh, yes. Right there,” she murmured.

Cybil sighed at the strong hands kneading her tense shoulders. Golden sunshine warmed her skin. Azure waves lapped against the pristine, ivory sand not fifteen feet from where she lounged on a luxurious padded chaise. Her tanned skin glistened in the sun. The coconut scent from her suntan lotion wafted on the gentle breeze and mingled with the salt from the ocean waves. The simmering heat of the tropics caused perspiration to bead on her forehead and evaporate with the light wind. The sunglasses perched on her nose shaded her gray eyes from the radiant sunlight.

It was without a doubt a perfect day.

The light breeze played with the loose tendrils of her inky hair while the sexy-as-sin Pablo—he of the broad, tanned shoulders, gorgeously thick black hair, and soulful eyes—massaged her shoulders with his long, talented fingers. The man had the most wonderful, gifted hands and knew precisely where to exert the most pressure. And those thumbs of his were singularly skilled at ferreting out every ache and pain.

God, she had needed this getaway—away from the cold, the snow, the dreaded holidays, and nonstop work. 

She muffled a moan.

Cybil couldn’t remember the last time she’d felt this relaxed. She could still taste the lime and salt from her frozen margarita. And she was a breath away from suggesting to Pablo that they take the massage indoors to her beachside bungalow. The thought of those hands massaging other regions of her body left her achy and needy. It had been so long since she had been with a man. Since this was a vacation, she didn’t have to worry about getting attached. Cybil moaned as he dug into a knot on her left shoulder.

Pablo lowered his face. Cybil shivered, heady anticipation humming along her skin. Was he going to nibble on her ear? Suggest naughty, decadent delights to be had if they retreated indoors? She was ready and willing for anything the guy had in mind.

“Purrr.” A cold, wet nose pressed against the side of her cheek where it met her ear, amplifying the sound. The purr increased in tenor. Something tickled her nose. 

Cybil cracked an eye open. A pair of golden eyes stared at her with expectation and determination, with a side of feline disdain that she had yet to acknowledge him.

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About the Author

Born in St. Louis, Missouri, Maggie grew up listening to Cardinals baseball and reading anything she could get her hands on. She remembers her mother saying if only she would read the right type of books instead binging her way through the romance aisles at the bookstore, she’d have been a doctor. While Maggie never did get that doctorate, she graduated cum laude from the University of Missouri-St. Louis with an M.A. in History.

Maggie is a bestselling and award-winning author published in multiple fiction genres. She also writes erotic romance under the name Anya Summers. A total geek at her core, when she is not writing, she adores attending the latest comic con or spending time with her family. She currently lives in the United States Midwest with her two furry felines.

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